


The Master and The Whore

by twiniitowers



Category: The Omen (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:27:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twiniitowers/pseuds/twiniitowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a little drabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Master and The Whore

_**The Master and The Whore** _

**Thorn Manor**

When the boys were tucked safely into their military academy beds was when Richard decided to have it out with Ann.

For the past few months she has been acting listless as if her mind was on something, someone else maybe?

Was she having an affair? He saw how Paul Buher looked at her whenever they were together.

She was lazily flipping through the cliched fashion magazine of the day. Imagining through the pictures that she was the model in the flimsy, clingy skirts and that Damien was the male model with no shirt on. (Oh......her mind flexed)

She kept hearing his name in her mind she loved the taste of him, even his blood.

"Ann, we have to talk." Richard said putting his glass of brandy down.

"About?"

"Us. What's wrong with us?" He tried to sit down next to her, but she stood up before he could put his arm around her.

"There's nothing wrong with us Richard it's all in your head." (Damien)

She could feel his tongue licking her up he was the Master.   She wanted to blurt it all out to Richard but she knew it was not the time.

Head maid Trina came in the room and Ann gave a sigh of relief, "Yes, Trina."

"Phone for you, Mrs. Thorn."

Richard excused himself to go to their bedroom she'd have to face him sooner or later.

"Hello?" She put her best Mrs. Thorn voice on, whoever that woman was.

"It's me."

Her lips turned upward and seductively, "Hello, Damien. What do you need, honey?"

"Can you get me out of that stupid field trip tomorrow?" He whined. Davidson wanted to send the cadets to a local homeless shelter to help out for the day. Damien thought they had to be fucking kidding.

Neff who should've known better thought it'd be "good experience." He and Buher usually preferred what looked the best on paper.

"Of course, Master," She whispered, "I'm aching for you Damien, I cannot stand being apart from you."

"Get me out of this field trip Ann, and you can fuck me until your brains explode." The way he said that made him laugh. He thought the Antichrist should have a sense of humor and sarcasm to him.

"What are you wearing?" She purred

"My uniform, I haven't taken it off yet." He looked so sexy in his uniform. He commanded more power than the highest ranking officers! He asked her what she was wearing.

"A blue cashmere sweater and a beige skirt."

"The tight one? Richard doesn't deserve a whore like you!"

"That's another thing," Ann explained about Richard's behavior, "What do I do?"

"Fuck him."

"No, Damien......."

"You have to. It'll calm him down. Just lie there and let him pummel himself into you." 

"It's torture when all I want is to be with you." Even though she was talking to him on the telephone,she still bowed her head out of respect and said her Satanic prayer. Damien felt a power surge come over his body like static electricity.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Make sure you phone Neff by seven in the morning." Damien ordered.

"Yes. I love you, Damien."

He didn't say it back, he just hung up the other end of the phone satisfied. He realized he had to be careful of the calls he made this time no one was around the pay phones, but he had to be careful.  

He ran up the stairs in confident strides where Mark was up trying to work on his algebra. Should he? What the hell?

Damien took the pencil out of Mark's hand and proceeded to write down all the answers.

"What?" Mark shook his head.

"They're all correct, just copy them over in your handwriting."

"Thanks, Damien."

"No problem."   Damien took of his blazer. And watched the Prince of Princes copy down all the answers that Damien provided.

If only he would join him. He knew that wasn't going to happen.   Damien put on his jeans and a D.M.A gym t-shirt before getting started on his homework. It would only take an hour, he could rattle it off in half that, but with Mark in the room he knew he couldn't.

* * *

**NEXT MORNING**

 "Thanks, Murray." Damien hopped out of the car and into the house. Richard got an urgent business call at three in the morning and had to jet off to Italy.

Murray smiled as he watched Damien go into the house with a youthful exuberance.

Damien continued his run up the grand staircase he stopped at the top of the stairs to make sure no cleaning personnel was around. He knocked softly on Ann's door.

"Come in." She was wearing a long white chiffon nightgown made of silk.

"You look nice." Which might have sounded like a compliment but it was purely self-serving.

"Thank you, Damien." Since Ann got him out of school, Mark was looking forward to helping the homeless! Damien wanted to throw him against the wall. To be so goody-goody. he was wearing a black turtleneck and jeans almost like The Beatles in their _Rubber Soul_ period. She got up and walked around to the side of the bed that Damien was on and wrapped her arms around his waist. Her eyes just as evil, although NOT as powerful, as his.

Ann was never so happy when she got the calling. She knew she was never properly human when her cousin Marie at six-years-old drowned in the lake she was the only one who secretly smiled over it.

All the toil and trouble to get in the same vicinity as Richard Thorn to play Mommy to his spoiled rugrat. She started to feel her destiny but couldn't put a label on it when they picked Damien up to live with them. She remembered his gorgeous features and how she had to pretend to be Mother to both Mark and Damien when all she wanted to be was HIS Mother. When his manhood came earlier this month no one was happier, victorious than Ann. It meant her facade could start breaking that she could be Damien's whore. She would grant him whatever he desired.

She knew with a mixture of sweeping sadness and rapturous ecstasy that if he told her to hang herself like his first nanny she'd do it. If he wanted her to fuck other men she'd do it. If he wanted her to screw other women she’d do it. Whatever he desired. It was her mission to please him.

She ran her long fingers through his hair and kissed the tri-6's. He unzipped the nightgown that Richard bought her for their first anniversary and laid her down on the bed. His eyes catching a glimpse of a quaint family portrait from a few years ago Ann, Richard, Mark, and himself on the beach in the tropics.  

They had their usual passive/aggressive/passive/aggressive love making session over in an hour, they held each others sweaty palms as she said the Satanic prayers.

"I've got a problem." Damien threw his head back on his Uncle's pillow

"What is it?" She rested her head on his sweaty chest.

"I don't know all the answers."

"Ssh,” She put a finger to his lips, "None of us know either, Damien. I'd love to ram Richard's head through a plate glass window."

"Mark and Vanessa, I'd like to crush their dreams."

"Oh you will, Master you will. You're not meant to know now. When you Father wants you to know you shall."

"You're not the only one who wants to break from their facade. And I will be wearing it longer. I have the burden to contend with." He sighed.  

Ann got out of bed and went to the small mini bar Richard had built and poured him a glass of wine.

"Here drink this, honey."

"While you're down there pet my dick," He didn't mince words. He was grateful that he had the Whore to satisfy his sexual stirrings and urges because he didn't like thinking about the worldly possibilities that were at stake those things that Buher and Neff wanted him to get acquainted with. And how could he when they didn't even know all the answers?   They spent the next two hours undisturbed and made thrashing love to one another.

* * *

**Academy**

"How come you didn't go on the field trip?" Mark questioned that night when he returned.

"I didn't feel like it."

"It wasn't that bad, It felt good to help out."

_I bet it did, gold star for sappy Mark._

"I knew you were going to same something like that." Damien rested on his bunk. He was tired from all that gratification today.   Just like Ann wanted to scream the truth at Richard, Damien wanted to say, "Ann certainly is quite a good fuck." He knew he couldn't but he'd sure like to see the look on his cousin's face when the truth came out.

* * *

**Thorn Manor**

Ann took no precautions and when all of the household help was asleep she took the soiled linens that she had under the bed and did the laundry herself. Saying her prayers to the Antichrist in her mind like a mantra. She envisioned herself the Queen of Damien's Harem. He was no doubt going to screw others which did prick at her heart a bit, but she knew she was the Queen Whore.

More thoughts flashed through her mind as she sat on a chair watching the washing machine spin. When she lost her virginity at thirteen when all the girls around her were saving themselves for marriage, she thought "How stupid of them they don't deserve husbands."

She saw folded up laundry on the shelf ready to be put back into wardrobe closets the next morning. Mark's favorite shirt from summer camp the camp run by the Rose's. Damien raped Mary Rose.

How could she not want to be with that glorious child?

When the washer cycle ended she put the linens in the dryer and went upstairs to imagine Damien raping her, her own hands savaging her own body and crying out for him in her pillow.

* * *

**Academy**

Damien too shared in this totality as he carefully stroked himself as Mark slept.  

Ann certainly had the energy and the stamina required to be his Whore. She knew about Mary Rose and she liked it.   This reality was certainly better than the fucking lie Mark and Vanessa had going. Damien could NOT, could NOT wait to stop their plans. What teen has a steady girlfriend, who they DON'T have sex with? That's what bothered Damien most of all, and they talk about getting married someday and living in a white picket fence suburbia.

 

* * *

 

**Months later**

“Thanks for the ice-cream, Damien.”   Abby said swishing the spoon around what was left of her sundae.

Abby Bishop was a new friend he met at his uncle's country club.

“You’re welcome, Abby.” Damien replied with a smile as he licked his cone.

“Can I have some more?” She asked like a little female Oliver Twist.

“Of course, then after we can play a game.”

“I like games.”

“I know you do, so do I.”

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, he was so cute. He bought her another sundae smiling inward and outward.

“I have to be home at four though.”

”Oh, we have lots of time, Abby. Finish your sundae.”

“Okay, Damien. Then we can play our game.”

He didn’t reply.

She was a few years younger than Damien. Where when they are adults it wouldn’t matter but if you are a child it’s like an ocean’s gap. He caught her doing cartwheels in the yard, her blonde curls bouncing.

They smiled at each other. He heard the breakfast bell and had to go back to the Academy.

They waved and he ran away.

* * *

**THE END**

 

 

   
  
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